Mournings of An Evil Little Cockroach
by IssaLee
Summary: And guess who I got paired with? The Weaselette. If Voldemort doesn’t hurry up and reincarnate his arse the hell back I may have to dirty my hands and kill myself. Draco Malfoy, diary form
1. Lists and Such

This story came out of thin air, and was inspired by lists on and 50 Things Draco's Not Allowed To Do Anymore. Besides that, I decided there were too many Ginny diaries and not enough of Draco.

Disclaimer: I own this crazy plot, but nothing besides that.

* * *

_**Saturday, September 6 **_

_**3:45 PM**_

_**Slytherin Head Boy's Dormitory**_

Let it be known that had I had my wand at the moment, the Muggle-loving witch who handed me this book would have been Avada Kedavra-ed out of the window. Sadly, she had taken it before. I must suppose she was expecting this.

My name is Draconis Alexander Malfoy. I am, at the moment, sixteen years old and in my seventh year at the pigsty of a school they call Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. (See? They even put it in the title.)

My Mindstreamer, this awful blonde who wears _pink_ every day and is called Melissa Slutsky (Oh, I had a laugh about that one) insists I must have one of these. She called it a journal.

I detest her, and I plan to stick slugs in her bed as she sleeps.

Or adders.

But Mother told me that I absolutely had to spend at least the last year of Hogwarts with her, seeing as Lucius (my father) was just recently thrown into Azkaban, the Wizarding prison. I did this, seeing as she also promised me half of the fortune Daddy dearest left behind, so that I may move out of the Manor as soon as all of this is over.

The Barbie Doll Slut (Don't be so surprised. Know thine enemies is a Malfoy saying, and so I was forced into Muggle Studies) has also put some kind of Indestructible Charm on this book. She warned me not to try to Avada this book, at least, as the spell would bounce off and hit the nearest object. What does she take me for? A Weasley?

I'd use Reducto, of course.

_**5:00 PM**_

_**Still in Head Boy's Dorms**_

Have decided that from now on, hair gel is for losers. This has nothing to do with the fact that I left every single bottle but one at home and Mother seems to be refusing to send me any, although the one bottle is just about finished.

Blaise (Zabini) and I were sitting in my room, plotting the demise of Potter, when Crabbe and Goyle lumbered in. They knocked over all my stuff, including this bottle of perfume I was thinking of sending my aunt Tonks (She hates her first name, Nymphadora). It smells of lilacs, which has got to be the most awful smell in the world.

And now my whole room smells like it, as do I.

If I Avada-ed Crabbe and Goyle, would anyone notice?

Sunday, September 7 

_**Noon**_

_**Hiding in the Slytherin Common Room**_

The Mudblood must DIE.

First she practically broke my nose in third year, called me a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach (I do not resemble an insect in any way), made the twitchy ferret comment (Malfoys do not _twitch_) and now this!

I was just walking down the hall, being my usual courteous self when Granger comes along. I thought she was a giant tumbleweed at first.

"Malfoy! You can't tell the first years that there are free unicorn rides being given out in the forest!"

I shrugged, and told her to mind her own business, just as Weasley and Potter walk up. She had to have her_ boyfriends_ come and help her. They demanded to be allowed to castrate me, and she declined. At least she has some sense. They'd screw it all up, if that Slug incident with Weasley was anything to go by.

So I was just whispering it to a few more of the brats when something hits me from behind, and Granger tells me to stop that.

And I did!

I thought she'd used Imperio on me at first, but it was just a Will-Weakening spell. Needless to say, all the first years ran off as soon as Potter and Weasley made me do this little dance. I looked like a chicken.

Then the Weaselette comes around the corner, and she looks at me weirdly before telling her brother and the Boy-Who-Will-Die-At-My-Hands off. As soon as I could stop dancing, I glared at her and told her I didn't need her help. Apparently, she didn't know about the spell. Because she said three little words…

_**12:05 PM**_

Oh, no, there's no way in hell I'm telling you. The Barbie Doll Slut reads this, you know?

_**12:15 PM**_

My lips are still sealed, you petty little thing.

_**12:16 PM**_

"Kiss my ass."

_**12:17 PM**_

SHE SAID THAT! OF ALL THE—SHE COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING ELSE AND SHE SAID THAT?

_**12:30 PM**_

And I kissed it.

_**12:45 PM**_

Over her robes, EEW!

_**1:00 PM**_

Ah, but you should have seen Weasley's face! This will keep me going for a long time. Sadly, Blaise and Pansy rounded the corner at the same time. Blaise is still laughing, which is why I'm hiding still. I wonder if Pansy's still sobbing with wild abandon?

_**1:12 PM**_

I nearly killed Granger, though, after I dragged her away and made her take of the spell. She was apologizing like the flood, though, and I'm happy to say I left her with another Tooth Enlarging charm. Lord knows she needed it.

Granger with straight teeth? I was being tempted, but the poodle on her head swayed me.

_**1:15 PM**_

Although I nearly pissed myself laughing at the Weaselette's face. When I looked up, I thought her head was on fire before I realized she was just blushing.

Here's Blaise. He's still laughing. Thank the entities this armchair is large and out of the way. I can't even go to my dorm. People would _see_ me.

Monday, September 8 

_**10:45 PM**_

_**Charms Classroom**_

I was sorely tempted to kick Potter's head in, but unfortunately, Flitwick spotted me scooting closer and charmed my seat back across the room.

Potter laughed. I charmed his face to look like an old man's. I am sufficiently satisfied, especially seeing as the midget that is our teacher decided this was an ingenious use of the charm and awarded points. Fool.

But Potter's sending something around. A note. I wonder what it is?

_**11:30 PM**_

I now have an official To-Die List.

_1)Potter_

_2)Granger_

_3)Every single Weasley in the world_

_4)Every single Gryffindor in the world_

_5)All Hufflepuffs_

_6)All first years_

_7)McGonagall_

Sadly, that's all I have. Potter's on the list at the very top, having only just succeeded Granger because I found out what he was passing around. It was a list.

_Narcissa Malfoy's Top Ten Disgustingly Cute Names for Draco  
10. Ickle-Drakey-Wakey  
9. Drakey-Dookie-Diddy-Dums  
8. Drakey-Diddy-Dobby-Doo  
7. Snoogie-Woogie-Drakey-Poo  
6. Drakey-Dinky-Dookie-Doodums  
5. Drakey-Poopsie-Oopsie-Goo  
4. Drakey-Dimsy-Mimsy-Doo-Doo  
3. Drakey-Doody-Sweetie-Dookums  
2. Dipsy-Doopsy-Drakey-Poo  
1. YOU !#& BRAT!_

I am highly offended. But not so much, seeing as I just recently hexed some Ravenclaw student for inventing the damn thing. On the plus side, Potter now has liver-spotted hands to match his face.

_**Advanced Potions**_

_**11:45 PM**_

Interesting. The Weaselette seems to have surpassed the normal brain capacity her family is prone to. She's in this class. And she's good.

And I'm partnered with her.

Snape has made number eight on my To-Die List.

It was actually a very good partnership. She blushed like the fury and got the ingredients, shoved some of them my way, and we worked in quiet. I may think of adding her to my harem. Merlin knows I'm handsome enough for another girl.

_**Hospital Wing**_

_**1:45 PM**_

I have just finished a session with The BDS. She read what I've written, snapped the book shut, pursed her lips and goggled at me.

"Why, Draco, I never knew you thought of me that way! A Barbie Doll? Do I really?"

She has replaced Potter on the List. She's just that annoying, and get this; she put her hand on my knee while she was talking, looked into my eyes and said;

"Draco, we must get to know each other better. It will surely help me as we delve into your mind." The fact that she was also stroking my leg with her foot didn't escape me.

The-Man-Who-Let-The-Boy-Live should have done a better job slaughtering Muggleborns before he died.

Blaise has been on my nerves nonstop about the kissing arse thing. He's also, consequently, told all the Slytherins. This is why he is currently locked into a storage closet just outside of the Hospital Wing that, coincidentally, won't open for any spells and is soundproofed.

Ah, joy.

But because Slytherins are Slytherins, the whole school knows. I must now think of ways to kill myself. Preferably, death by Voldemort, but the freaking idiot had to go get himself murdered by Potter. However, I can still make a list for his next resurrection.

_**Slytherin Common Room, sitting on couch**_

_**2:35 PM**_

I could Apparate in and out of his room really quickly. Nonstop for an hour.

_**2:36 PM**_

Or I could eat his pet snake. And offer him some.

_**2:45 PM**_

I'll steal, snap and bury his wand. And just for the hell of it, I'll tell him Lucius did it. I just asked Blaise for some ideas when he walked in (damn spell, must have been timed), and he looked over what I had written before grinning inanely.

"Offer to sacrifice Draco Malfoy to the cause."

I decided I liked him better in the closet, and put him back. Theo (Nott) had an actual suggestion. He laughed, of course, when I told him I kept the journal, but then I threatened to show those blackmail photos of him and he complied readily.

He said I should walk a few paces behind Voldemort and spray everything he touches.

_**2:50 PM**_

Seriously, though, if you sleep with a teddy bear and someone gets photos, how do you expect to live happily after that?

_**Muggle Studies**_

_**3:15 PM**_

Merlin save us all.

Our Muggle Studies class has been turned into a _Dance_ class. Which means we have to _dance. _And we're _partnered_.

I'm upset, in case you haven't noticed.

The lists are being posted at the end of class. For now, we are allowed to mill about. The Weaselette's in this class too, but so are a bunch of other sixth years. She's stuck something white into her ears. I can hear voices coming from it.

_**3:20 PM**_

Granger saw me watching and in an attempt to gain my forgiveness (Or maybe because I threatened to tell everyone about what she did at the Prefect's End of The Year Party last year) she told me what it was. A Muggle contraption called an I-Pod, and it sends music into her ears. The girl Weasel's managed to rearrange the structure and put some Wizarding materials inside it so that it works inside Hogwarts.

So she is smarter than her brothers.

I wonder what she's listening to?

_**3:25 PM**_

She's sitting in front of me, so I leaned over. It says 'Mexican Wine' on the little screen of a white thing shaped like a rectangle in her hands. Which are rather slim, I've seen her mother and it's come as a surprise.

And she's writing down the words on a piece of paper too. I'm pretty sure it's a Muggle song, then, listen:

"_He was killed by a cellular phone explosion_

_They scattered his ashes across the ocean_

_The water was used to make baby lotion_

_The wheels of commotion were set into motion_

_But the sun still shines in the summer time_

_I'll be yours if you'll be mine_

_I tried to change but I changed my mind_

_Think I'll have another glass of Mexican wine."_

That's all she had down before she starting talking to that Creevey fellow. He has buggy-out eyes, honestly.

_**3:45 PM**_

The Muggles must be mad. So far, the Weaselette has listened to "The Future Freaks Me Out", "Go Hippy", "Life of A Salesman", and "Bubble, Pop, Electric". She has no sense at all.

And the words, which she writes down, are all the more weirder.

"_I'm gonna give you all my love in the backseat"_

Eh. I'm starting to feel sorry for her brothers. No, sorry for her. She has six older ones. How is she supposed to live happily?

_**4:15 PM**_

Finally. The lists are posted, and copies are being passed around. Scrolling down…

Hah, Blaise got paired with a Patil twin. Parvati, I think. At least she looks ecstatic about it. Blaise looks like he'd rather be partnered with Pansy. Weasley (the male one) has Lovegood, and Potter's with Granger. Where's mine…?

_**Slytherin Head Boy's Dormitory**_

_**6:30 PM**_

I nearly passed out after class. Blaise had to half-drag me to my room. I can't believe this—this is an outrage! I refuse to go to class! I've been paired with—

_**6:35 PM**_

Oh, you thought I was going to tell you? Well, I'm not.

_**6:45 PM**_

I really am not. I'm going to go play Exploding Snap with Theo instead.

_**6:55 PM**_

He's not here. Still not spilling.

_**7:00 PM**_

The Weaselette.

_**7: 15 PM**_

If Voldemort doesn't hurry up and reincarnate his arse the hell back I may have to dirty my hands and kill myself.


	2. Draco Malfoy, God of the Universe

Disclaimer: Kiss arse, disclaimer. I hate you.

Muse Eelie: Be nice.

Me: Fine. Please kiss arse, disclaimer. I hate you, please. Die a horrible effing death.

* * *

**draco malfoy, god of the universe**

**issalee **_**  
**_

_**

* * *

Tuesday, September 9th **_

_**6:05 AM**_

_**Head Boy's Dorms**_

Ah, _merde _and triple _merde_.

Today, I killed Harry James Potter.

Sadly, the Wizarding World seems to think this a great injustice and has, consequently, formed together in an attempt to snap my body in half and take turns dancing on my grave.

Ok, so maybe I didn't actually _kill_ him. It was more like beat him senseless.

_**6:15**_

Ok, how the hell was I supposed to know he'd forgotten his wand in his room? What type of guy who knows he's supposed to be on the lookout for rogue Death Eaters wanders around the school in the early morning _without his wand_?

I was just awake—AT FREAKING FIVE IN THE MORNING, which is an Ungodly Hour, which is also the hours at which the Lucifer—I mean, Lucius chose to wake me. Anyways, I was awake at five because my damn internal body clock (which needs to be taken the hell out) was used to waking up then.

Right.

So I'm walking down the hallway, and there's Potter, talking to my old house-elf—Dobby. He was very…eccentric when we had him, I remember. Father took him away from me and made Dobby his personal sex slave—er, no, servant. Goddamn, I told Blaise that he shouldn't have lent me that book.

_Odd Mating Habits_, by Matilda Tubbs.

I swear, I will never, _ever_ again ask Blaise what he's reading.

_**6:35**_

Right.

I must get back to the story now, so here goes.

Potter was just talking, as I said before, to Dobby, the aforesaid se—house-elf. When I rounded the corner, he jumped and turned around, looking immediately disgusting like. Which means he looked like himself, you daft fools.

_**6:40**_

Actually, Potter doesn't look all that bad.

_**6:45**_

NOOOOOOOOOO!  
May Lucifer—Lucius scratch out his eyeballs, I just said Potter doesn't look bad! I HAVE COMPLIMENTED MY ARCH-NEMESIS.

Life can't get any worse.

_**7:00**_

Damn.

Blaise has woken up and tumbled into my rooms, still shaggy-haired and wearing his pajamas. He interrupted my System.

I am now in the process of convincing myself that I, Draco Malfoy, am in no way attracted to Harry Potter, as I am NOT GAY.

_**7:15**_

Told Blaise about my suspicions.

He looked weirdly at me as he went to use my bathroom. I told him to stuff his eyes back in his face, shaggy boy.

_**7:16**_

He didn't get it, though.

_**7:20**_

Right. So as I was saying before, Potter turned around in his DEFINITELY UNATTRACTIVE way, and said a few choice comments. Actually, it went something like this.

**Potter:** Malfoy.

**Me:** Potter.

**Potter:** I worship you. (Scratch that) Die, evil scum.

**Me:** No, you first.

And he reached back as though he was taking something out of his pocket, and I panicked. So I took out my wand and threw him a hard Stupefying spell. How was I supposed to know I shouldn't have put that much force in it?

So he's lying in the Hospital Wing now. I wonder if I'll survive today?

_**Breakfast, Great Hall**_

_**8:45**_

I never knew how many first-years hated me.

I was just innocently walking down the hall (ok, so maybe I was hexing Pansy's head bald, but that is to be _expected_) when a bunch of them, from all different houses (INCLUDING SLYTHERIN, GASP) stopped me and started firing off random spells.

Of course, it was hilarious, seeing as the most they knew were spells to make your garden look greener, but I decided they were annoying.

So, all right, maybe I hexed a few of them.

_**8:48**_

_All right!_

So maybe sixteen out of twenty isn't a few. But they were attacking me first!

Luckily for me (or not so much), Snape appeared and chased them off. Our conversation went as follows:

**Snape:** Draco.

**Me:** Uncle Sev, how nice to see you!

**Snape**: Shut up, you insolent brat. Do you wish to be expelled?

**Me: **No, I wish for chocolate and lots and lots of girls.

**Snape, backing away:** Draco, don't catch me doing things like that again. You can't afford to draw any negative attention to yourself with your father in jail. That episode with Potter was hard enough to cover up, but if a couple of first years ended up maimed?

**Me: **How about just severely Stunned?

**Snape:** Draco!

**Me: **I don't see _you_ complaining about Potter. I heard you got out the old bottle of Ogden's.

**Snape:** Draco Malfoy, I'll see you in detention on Friday.

So I have detention.

And Muggle Studies—no, _Dance_ class tomorrow.

Damn it all. I'll just tell Voldemort Potter might be his long-lost son. That would drive anyone to use Avada.

_**Arithmancy**_

_**9:45**_

I received a letter in the post from Mum today.

WHAT FRESH HELL.

She says that my cousins, on Lucifer's side (I've just given up trying with Lucius) who are from France are coming to visit.

I have to work on my French, she says, and that I have to find a suitable tutor while I'm here.

_**9:50**_

Like hell I will.

_**10:00**_

If I just use French here, I can tell her I've been practicing, right?

But Mum knows everything.

No, seriously, can _your_ effing mum recite the name of every single girl you've dated and/or shagged? Without batting an eyelash?

_**10:15**_

I'm beginning to think I should post something up. Next Hogsmeade weekend, maybe? For now, I'll write in here. There is no point to Arithmancy anyways, so it's not like I'm missing anything.

_**10:20**_

_Je m'appelle Draco Malfoy._

_J'ai 16 ans. _

_Je suis très beau._

Eh. Can't be bothered to put more.

_**Charms**_

_**11:45**_

Why is it that curse words from a different language always stick in your head?

_**11:50**_

Lucifer's nieces and nephews are very evil. Why am I even bothering to prepare for them, anyway? I hate them all, ever since the eldest boy chopped off the head of my pet salamander and laughed while the body shriveled up.

_**Noon**_

This, _mes petite amis_, is why I need a Mindstreamer.

_**Transfiguration**_

_**Noon-thirty, w/e**_

McGonagall is having us take notes.

I'm copying Pansy's later.

The Spawn Of Satan are from my aunt Lynnette who has married a Lucifer-look-alike, and his name is Orville. They have four children, which is four too many.

Solange, the second eldest at fourteen is quiet and doesn't bother me so much. She, like all her siblings, has blond hair, but she also has the lightest blue eyes. She has a familiar, a cat called Seymour who is actually a girl. I feel for it.

Sigourney is her older sister, and a twin. THE BITCH MUST DIE. She is eighteen, lives on her own with her boyfriend Javier from Spain, and the last time she visited me she was fifteen. I asked her what she wanted to be when she was out of school.

"An assassin."

_**12:50**_

I swear to freaking God she said it, and I remember that she was going to be a Death Eater until she got offered a job hunting down dangerous animals and killing them in Scotland.

She should have been Lucifer's daughter, not me. (That came out wrong. I am NOT a girl.)

Then there's her twin, who's just as bad as her. He's the one who killed my salamander, and his name is Russell. I called him Brussels, once, as in the sprouts and he bent back my fingers until I cried then healed them before my Mum came in.

THEY MUST ALL FREAKING DIE.

And lastly is the baby, some spoiled facsimile fraud who thinks he can get away with everything, and you want to know what sucks?

He's my age, and he looks ALMOST EXACTLY LIKE ME.

**_Advanced Potions_**

_**1:30**_

Was still upset over thinking of the Spawn of Satan, so of course I was late to Potions. The Weaselette had already started our potion—some random drink. I mixed in everything feeling particularly loathsome.

You want to know what the brat's name is?

_Gaylord._

_**1:31**_

There is a God.

_**1:45**_

BLAST! MERDE! No, TRIPLE MERDE!

I was laughing to myself about _Gaylord_ when I tipped something over into the Weaselette's cauldron. She didn't notice, and I didn't say anything. But when she added the brimstone, the whole thing suddenly boils over and—

VWISH!

Everyone's covered in blue and purple slime that makes you feel like you've just rolled in dog crap.

So Sev docked points, Weaselette got detention, and I contented myself with watching Weasley almost suffocate. Damn Granger and her severing spells.

_**2:00**_

Interesting.

_**2:15**_

No one's attempted murder on me at all today. Everyone's gone. I mean, _everyone._

We were having a late lunch today, anyways because someone snuck into the elves and set off a few bombs that caused temporary amnesia in the house-elves. But as soon as the last class let out, everyone just disappeared to some random place.

_**2:30**_

_Merde_. Did I miss a notice saying there was an orgy or something?

_**Slytherin Common Room**_

_**Sitting in Plush Armchair alternately writing and hexing a first-year**_

_**6:45**_

I know why everyone was gone now.

I just turned down some random hallway, and once more I saw Potter, but this time there was a bunch of people surrounding him and cheering.

Every one quieted when I got there, though. The Slytherins were, as usual, hanging about in a way that was very _amusant_ way, trying to act as though they weren't really there and so on. I had to try hard not to laugh.

Right.

But anyways, Potter is staring me down, and I have to think of a quick comment.

Me: You're not dead yet?

That was actually very good. But Potter doesn't say anything and for a while I started to wonder whether or not he had lost his voice when he suddenly looks all elevated and dignified and such. He looks at me and says, very clearly:

"Malfoy, I really feel sorry for you."

And then he walked away.

_**7:00 (First Year has been rescued by friends)**_

What the hell did he mean, sorry for me?

I'm Draco Malfoy! THERE'S NOTHING TO BE SORRY ABOUT WHEN YOU'RE ME!

_**7:15**_

Was he talking about Lucifer/Lucius? Or Pansy? Because, I know, I wouldn't mind so much, but I have this niggling feeling that's not what he meant.

_**7:30**_

Must die soon.

_**8:45**_

Blaise suggested I work on my list to keep my mind off things. Ok…

_**9:00**_

I could always have him and Potter play _Risk_ to figure out who deserves to win the fight. Or _Monopoly_.

_**Midnight**_

Who in blazing hell made up those games anyway?

_**Wednesday, September 9th**_

_**DIAYOR (Do it at your own risk) class**_

_**Noon**_

Dancing needs to be outlawed, and also STABBED TO PIECES WITH A—ah, _kuso_.

The Weaselette has told me seventeen times that I need to stop cursing and get on with the freaking thing already. We're learning a waltz.

_**12:15**_

I am refusing to dance.

_**Lunch, Great hall**_

_**1:20**_

Prof. _Putain_ has decided to have us all learn a random dance and present it. I was all but Imperio-d to dance this class, and so I was not in a forgiving mood when I marched up to the front of the class and stuck my hand inside of the fricking hat that should also burn in the fiery depths of hell and pulled out a note that said TANGO.

Underneath it, in very small letters were the words 'Dirty Dancing'.

It fits Weaselette perfectly.

But I have to dance it too! MERDE. I have decided that I should just go up to Potter and say a couple of things about his mother, so he would do me the favor of executing me, but he is still acting all myterious and giving me this pitying looks.

_**1 :30**_

Blaise and I watched a video once, a Muggle movie called _You Got Served_ while we were at his Grandmother's vacation home. She loves anything Muggle, and I think she's drunk most of the time, but she's French and they love their wine so…

The point is, there were a few things there I can imagine using on Potter.

**Potter :** Malfoy. Die.

**Me : **Yo _mama_, fool.

**Potter :** Avada's me (the fool).

Ye Gods! If only it were that simple.

_**1 :45**_

What _is_ Dirty Dancing? We have to research it too, although I think girl Weasel already knows. She was looking ashen after I showed her the note.

Does it involve mud?

Pardon my French (when a French person curses, do they say Pardon my English?) but Weaselette is a girl, and she's not that unattractive, so it's only to be expected that I would think of her in mud.

_**2 :00**_

If I added in a bikini to the end of the sentence, how long d'you think it would take Lucifer to find me and kill me?

_**Ancient Runes**_

_**3:45**_

I'm going to the library after this class with Blaise to find out what fresh hell Prof. Putain has given us. That's not her real name, by the way. It's a curse…in French…but I'm calling her that from now on. PP for short.

_**Head Boy's Dorms**_

_**8:00**_

MEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRDDDDDE.

_**11:34**_

DIRTY DANCING? WITH THE WEASELETTE?

_**1:24 AM**_

Eww…I have to touch her…

_**1:35**_

It's not fair. Blaise got the waltz, which everyone's been learning anyways. Weasley and Lovegood got Salsa, and Granger and Potter get the Flamenco!

_**1:45**_

That settles it. I must die.

_**2:00**_

How, though?

_**2:15**_

Ye Gods! I will let the SOS do it! They will surely be happy beyond their wildest dreams, Sigourney and Russell especially.

_**2:30**_

So that's it. I have a plan. A fine, beautiful plan, but if I go out, I must go out with a bang. All will remember the name of Draconis Alexander Malfoy, GOD OF THE UNIVERSE.

_**2:45**_

I must remember to train Pansy to call me that.

* * *


End file.
